


Somewhere Only We Know

by SPowell



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, References to Bestiality, dub con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-30
Updated: 2013-09-30
Packaged: 2017-12-28 02:25:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/986573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SPowell/pseuds/SPowell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Film Prompt: Tarzan of the Apes</p><p>Professor Merlin Emrys rescues the long lost brother of Morgana Pendragon from the wilds of the African jungle<br/>where, after a plane crash that killed both their parents, Arthur Pendragon's lived with the apes for the past eighteen years. Under Merlin's tutelage, Arthur quickly regains his social skills and ability to speak; however, he desperately misses the jungle he still thinks of as home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somewhere Only We Know

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Dub con and references to bestiality. Some angst.
> 
> ***NOTE: For the first 792 people who read this--I realized I'd inadvertently published an unedited copy of the story. I've just changed it to the edited copy where a few rather necessary changes were made. I could absolutely KICK myself! I think WORD reverted back to an old version and I just didn't realize it.
> 
> Written for Reel_Merlin Take 6
> 
> Awesome artwork by texasislandr can be found [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1160906)

_And if you have a minute why don’t we go_

_Talk about it somewhere only we know?_

_This could be the end of everything_

_So why don’t we go_

_Somewhere only we know? –Somewhere Only We Know, Keane_

 

“Shall I call Lady Pendragon and tell her that her brother’s ready to see her, Professor Emrys?” Lance asks. “It’s been a month, and he’s made incredible strides. He isn’t swinging from the rafters anymore.”

Merlin looks through the one-way glass at the disheveled, long-haired man staring pensively at the clothing Merlin’s been trying to get him to put on for the past three hours. The fact that Arthur is actually Lord Arthur Pendragon is more than apparent these days, even down to the way he stands.

Merlin already suspects that the seven years of breeding that Arthur got before he was left with the apes had some kind of impact on him, because the moment he set foot around humans again, it didn’t take very long for him to regain the posture and deportment befitting a lord of the manner, although Merlin immediately realized he’d have to re-teach Arthur language.

“Perhaps that could wait a bit longer. Tell Gwaine to get Arthur bathed, shaved, his hair cut, and whatever else he needs to do to make him more presentable. We’ll see how that goes before we let his sister see him. I think I’ll stay away from him until all that’s done.”

“Not getting on with our guest?” a smile plays around Lance’s mouth. “He a bit too savage for you?”

“You should have seen what he threw at me this morning,” Merlin says in reply.

Lance looks horrified, and Merlin quickly puts in, “It was his porridge! But I could have done without that at six in the morning, I assure you!”

Relieved, Lance goes to find Gwaine.

Merlin continues watching as Arthur, who can’t really be called an animal by any stretch of the word--even though he’s spent the last eighteen years living in the jungles of Africa with nothing but apes to keep him company--sits down on the bed provided for him and stares into the mirror nailed to the wall. The first time Arthur saw the mirror, he’d assumed the fear-grin of an ape, throwing his arms up in the air and beating them down at his sides. Merlin has seen other primates do the same when faced with a mirror, thinking their reflection an enemy, but Merlin finds watching a fellow human do it rather shocking, to say the least.

Now, Arthur stares into the glass pensively, as though seeking to know the man inside. Merlin finds himself wanting to know that man, too.

When Lady Morgana Pendragon first came to Merlin about the rumor that her brother had been spotted still alive in the wilds of Africa, where twenty years earlier the private plane carrying seven-year-old Arthur and his parents on a trip overseas went down just off the coast, Merlin had been intrigued and eager to make the expedition to find him. In truth, Merlin had recently come out of a bad break-up, and any distraction sounded like a good one to him. Added to that was the book he’s always wanted to write, and this sounded like the perfect subject.

It was a rescue mission, but upon seeing how Arthur interacted with the apes and fairly swung through the trees like he was one of them himself, muscled arms and thighs clinging to the vines…

Well, that was neither here nor there.

Finding that Arthur was apparently at home in the jungle and far from wanting to be ‘rescued,’ turned the expedition into more of a kidnapping, in Merlin’s opinion. It had taken three weeks for Merlin, Gwaine, and the others to track and shoot an irate and uncooperative Arthur with a sedative dart, taking him first to a local man’s plantation and then onto Morgana’s private jet, flying him to Britain.

The first two weeks Merlin and the others spent calming Arthur of the rages he’d experienced at having been uprooted from his familiar jungle, putting him through a battery of physical and psychological tests, and coaxing him to eat—most of the food winding up on Merlin’s face and chest; although at first, Arthur had been fascinated enough with the sight of Merlin’s ears to get a few bites in before realizing that the size and shape of those appendages did not necessarily mark him as chimp, and Arthur went back to throwing his food at Merlin.

Now, after a solid month of working with him, although Arthur is willing to tolerate other human beings; Merlin, whom Arthur seems to associate most with the kidnapping, is not his favorite among them.

But Merlin is determined to change that. Arthur Pendragon is so much more than a bearded man in a loin cloth. Merlin looks down at the ragged book and small, wooden, toy boat that had been Arthur’s only possessions when they found him—dubious valuables that had somehow survived the crash with him, perhaps tucked away on his person when the plane went down. The pages of the book are dog-eared from having been read and re-read a dozen times or more as a boy before the mysteries of the jungle lured him away—perhaps the child’s only comfort in the terrifying place he’d found himself. Merlin looks back up, startling to find Arthur’s eyes upon him before he realizes that Arthur can’t really be looking at him. The glass is one-way.

What mysteries lie behind those intelligent eyes?

000 

Later that day, when Merlin sees Arthur after Gwaine’s cleaned him up and somehow gotten him into proper clothing, Merlin barely recognizes him. If Merlin thought Arthur was handsome before, with his shaggy beard and long blond hair, he’s absolutely bowled over now at a clean-shaven, short-haired Arthur, just a wisp of that golden fringe falling across observant sea-blue eyes. _God, that jawline could cut glass_ , Merlin thinks, momentarily stunned into speechlessness at the sight.

At a nudge from Gwaine, Merlin quickly snaps out of it and tells Lance that he may notify Morgana Pendragon that her brother is ready to meet her.

What follows brings a few tears to Merlin’s eyes: Morgana first seeing her long-lost brother after years thinking him dead is heart-stopping.

Merlin stands to the back of the room, ready to intervene if necessary, as Morgana pauses in the doorway, hand to neck, staring at Arthur.

Arthur, for his part, simply blinks at the newcomer.

“Arthur?” she tries, voice quiet.

Arthur knows his name; they’ve spent weeks making sure of that. He grunts. Merlin holds his breath, imagining the impact this must have on the man’s sister. Morgana is made of sterner stuff, however, and doesn’t flinch. She takes several steps forward, turns to glance back at Merlin, who gives her an encouraging smile, and proceeds to put a tentative hand out to Arthur.

“Arthur? I’m your sister, Morgana.” She takes a deep breath. “You…you look so much like Mama.” She swallows.

“I…I can’t believe you’re still alive. I’d…given up hope.” At this point, a few tears fall from her green eyes, although she keeps her composure.

Arthur grunts again, reaching out to curiously touch her wet cheek with one finger.

Morgana gives him a watery smile.

“We really did look for you before,” she rushes on to assure him, as though he understands, although Merlin’s sure he doesn’t. “We found…” here she loses the ability to speak for a moment, and clears her throat. “We found Mama and Papa, but…and we just assumed…” She swallows. “Yes, well.” Morgana wipes her eyes with a silk handkerchief from her small leather purse. “I can’t believe you survived. I always felt guilty that I didn’t go with the three of you on the trip. I thought maybe I could have protected you in some way.” She looks so unhappy, Merlin isn’t too surprised when Arthur pats her face with his hand, if a little roughly, his blue eyes troubled. The pat is meant to be comforting, and Morgana takes it as such.

Morgana turns to Merlin. “Can’t he talk at all?”

Merlin comes forward. “I’m sure he can, but he’s forgotten the words. He’s a bit stubborn, too. He uses chimp calls, hoots, and grunts, but I think he’ll remember quickly once we do some one-on-one work with him. You wouldn’t believe how far he’s come--Already his body has remembered things such as walking upright and holding a fork. Manners and speech will come with time. I’d like to work with him…use this for my research, if you don’t mind. You can come every day, if you’d like.”

A slightly disgruntled expression passes over Morgana’s face but is immediately replaced by complacency. “You’ve already had him so long…but I knew it would be like this.” She looks at Arthur longingly before turning back to Merlin.

“That would suit me just fine, actually. I’m afraid I’d be at loose ends if I took him home now, anyway. When Arthur was born, it was contracted between our family and another that he would marry the Lady Vivian Dubois. As soon as she heard he’d been found, she came from France and has taken up residence with me. I don’t think her presence would be conducive with his…um, recuperation.”

“You’re probably right,” Merlin agrees.

Morgana spends some time with Arthur, sitting down with him, showing him some pictures of their parents, and of the two of them when they were little, trying to relate to Arthur that she’s talking about them. When she takes out a picture of the family dog, Arthur gets excited, snatching it from her hands.

Merlin thinks about correcting his behavior, but there will be plenty of time for that later; the moment’s too critical. Besides, Arthur is likely to ignore Merlin anyway, due to his dislike for him.

Arthur purses his lips. He seems to be trying to form a word, and Merlin and Morgana both lean forward expectantly.

“Do you recognize our dog, Arthur?” Morgana asks. “You once loved him dearly.”

Frustrated, Arthur begins to pout, slaps the table nearby, and points to the picture.

“Best to tell him the name,” Merlin suggests. “He’s frustrated.”

“Toby,” Morgana says.

Arthur’s face lights up. He moves his mouth, forcing the word out with difficulty. “T-oby. T-oby!”

Morgana nods, eyes alight. “Yes! Yes, Arthur! Toby! Toby, your dog!” She points to the picture. “Dog. Toby!”

“Dog-Toby!” Arthur repeats, his smile brilliant. And not for the first time, Merlin reflects that Arthur has amazingly strong, white, attractive teeth for a man who’s lived so long away from civilization. Why Merlin is thinking this when his subject has just had a massive language breakthrough is beyond him; he really ought to be taking notes. He smiles at Morgana and reaches for his pen and notebook.

000 

Merlin decides that the only way to get Arthur back into speaking is to be constantly spoken to. And the only way to make Arthur see Merlin as less of an enemy and more of a friend is to have Merlin do the training. Now that Arthur is past the stage of throwing things and has stopped trying to swing from the chandeliers, Merlin thinks it’s time to move on to these things.  So Merlin arranges a couple of connecting rooms in a hotel in the country with an en suite for the duration of two weeks. He and Arthur will share these rooms and work on Arthur’s language and social skills.

At first, Arthur is purposefully difficult for Merlin, beginning with stripping off all of his clothing the moment they enter their suite, shocking the bell boy. Merlin gives the young man a large tip and tells him not to be surprised by anything he sees or hears while they’re there. The boy shoots him a rather disgusted look and leaves.

“Arthur,” Merlin begins, and Arthur ignores him, which is typical behavior around Merlin.

Merlin sighs and goes to his room to unpack. When he returns, he finds Arthur examining all the furniture, piece by piece, which sometimes involves tasting it. Merlin lets that go for the time being, and gets out a book of pictures, sitting down with it on the couch. He can tell that Arthur is interested. Having lived with chimps all his life, Arthur really lacks the social skills to effectively shun Merlin the way he undoubtedly wants to. He keeps looking over his shoulder and raising a brow, pursing his lips in a way that Merlin quite frankly finds provocative and probably shouldn’t--but then Arthur’s been pushing Merlin to his limits for weeks with open sexual teasing he no doubt learned in the jungle where the art of veiled flirtation isn’t part of the apes’ mating ritual --and then shuffling closer to where Merlin is sitting and trying to peer over his shoulder.

Finally Arthur steps over the back of the couch, long legs sliding down until his naked arse is planted right beside Merlin, and pulls the book from Merlin’s hands. Merlin tugs back.

“No, no. Say please, Arthur. You’re being rude.”

Arthur frowns and tugs again, harder this time. Merlin tugs back. “Arthur, you must learn some manners. This is my book, and you want me to share with you. Say _please_.” Merlin looks Arthur in the eye. “Please.” He says it again slowly. “Please.”

Arthur watches Merlin’s mouth. Merlin says it again even more slowly.

Arthur finally repeats, “Please,” and Merlin lets go of the book. Arthur looks so satisfied with himself at that, Merlin can’t help but laugh.

Arthur begins flipping through the pages rapidly, refusing to let Merlin stop to show him anything. He turns his back on Merlin, huddling around the book possessively, until he gives himself a paper cut and then he just looks shocked. He holds up his finger, staring at it. He slowly turns, holding it up to show it to Merlin, who can see the little sliver of sliced skin.

“Oh. Paper cut,” Merlin says, wincing. “Ouch.”

Arthur looks from the cut to Merlin and back to the cut.

“Well?” Merlin says. “What do you want me to say?” When Arthur doesn’t put down his finger, Merlin reaches out, takes Arthur’s hand, and brings it to his lips, kissing the cut. “There. All better. Okay?”

Arthur stares at him, blue eyes bright. “O-kay,” he says after a moment, turning in his seat, and goes back to looking at pictures, slowly and more carefully this time, his side pressed to Merlin’s.

He points to a photograph of a flower and grunts, then points to his mouth.

“Oh, you eat those, do you?” Merlin asks. “I guess chimps sometimes do eat flowers. Flo-wer.” Merlin repeats the word several times slowly until Arthur tries it out, gets bored, and moves on.

Merlin is slightly distracted by Arthur’s nudity, but he has to pick his battles, and Arthur is compliant and actually working on his language skills, so Merlin isn’t going to say anything about it.

When Arthur begins stroking his cock while looking at the pictures, however, Merlin’s at a bit of a loss.

“Um, Arthur,” Merlin reaches over and stills Arthur’s hand. Arthur frowns and tries to move Merlin’s hand away. Probably none of the chimps had ever interfered with this activity. Merlin sighs. He can’t let Arthur think it’s okay to masturbate in front of others— _my God, what if he does it in the dining room?_ But how to get that through to him?

Again, Merlin puts his hand out to stop Arthur’s stroking actions. Arthur’s cock is fully erect now, and quite impressive, actually.

“No, Arthur.”

Arthur blinks, obviously thinking.

“Please,” he says.

Merlin laughs. _Oh, shit._ Arthur’s used the correct term for getting what he wants. Merlin stands up.

“Okay, have at it, then.”

Arthur frowns. “Okay?” he says, looking at Merlin. He grabs Merlin’s hand, pulling him down into his lap. Merlin suddenly finds his face only inches away from Arthur’s cock.

“Arthur, what…”

“Okay,” Arthur says. He takes his cock, which always seems to be in a state of semi-erection, and actually pushes it towards Merlin’s lips. Merlin’s beats fast as he thinks Arthur’s actually asking him for a blow job— _what the hell goes on with those chimps in the rainforest of Africa, anyway?_ But then, before he can actually open his mouth to suck Arthur down like the slag he is, Merlin suddenly realizes that Arthur associates the word ‘okay’ with a kiss, because Merlin used it when he kissed the paper cut on Arthur’s finger.

“Oh, my God…” Merlin murmurs, unsure what to do. He pulls back, but Arthur yanks him forward again, grunting and pushing his cock toward Merlin’s mouth. In the end, he takes the easiest route and plants a chaste kiss to the head of Arthur’s penis, receives a smile in return, and gets up, leaving the room so that Arthur can have his wank in privacy.

“I so did not sign up for this,” Merlin says to himself, entering the bathroom for a shower and his own private wank.

 

Their afternoon meal comes by room service just after Arthur excitedly crashes into Merlin’s room while Merlin is dressing, picture book in hand. He seems to have forgotten entirely that he loathes Merlin’s company.

Merlin wears his underwear and has one leg in his trousers and one leg out, but Arthur only sits down beside him when Merlin loses balance and topples to the floor, thrusting the book at Merlin’s face and pointing. It’s a picture of a jungle much like the one where they found Arthur.

Merlin nods, showing Arthur he understands, then shouting to the waiter in the next room, “Just set it all out in there, please!” He struggles into his pants, finds a tip, and signals Arthur to wait.

When Merlin comes back, Arthur looks impatient.

 “Jungle,” Merlin tells him, pointing at the open book. “Jungle.”

“Jungle,” Arthur repeats. He looks down at the page, a winsome expression on his face. “Jungle.”

“Arthur,” Merlin says. When Arthur looks up, Merlin points into the sitting room. “Food.” He makes an eating motion. “Eat. Come.” He motions him forward.

Arthur gets to his feet. He’s still naked, and Merlin points to Arthur’s clothes. “How about getting dressed?” he tries, but Arthur ignores him.

Merlin sighs. “Thought not. How silly of me to want you to have clothes on.” He watches Arthur’s bare arse disappear around the corner and adjusts his crotch before following.

They sit down in the chairs opposite one another at the small table. Merlin’s ordered simple fair—turkey sandwiches and some fruit, along with water. Merlin pours their water for them from the silver pitcher. He drinks from his glass, watching Arthur carefully to see what he will do.

Arthur copies Merlin, spilling only a little. He’s done this before. Cups and glasses are okay, but he isn’t overly fond of silverware. They’ll work on that later.

Arthur watches Merlin take a bite of his sandwich, but seems to decide he doesn’t like the bread and eats the lettuce instead, and then the turkey, after sniffing it thoroughly. He really loves the orange slices, and after thoroughly eating all the meaty fruit out of each of them, using a little more lip than necessary for the task, Merlin thinks, reaches over onto Merlin’s plate and nicks one of his.

“Arthur, no,” Merlin tells him, grabbing his wrist. “Those are mine.” He looks Arthur in the eye. “Merlin’s oranges. Arthur no steal.”

Merlin takes his orange back.

Arthur frowns and slaps the table.

“Well, I’m sorry,” Merlin tells him. “I happen to like oranges, too.” He begins to eat one, deliberately demonstrating the proper way to do so.

Arthur tilts his head, watching. He reaches over again, taking a slice.

“No, Arthur,” Merlin stops him again, this time with a flick to the wrist that makes Arthur hiss at him. “Stealing is wrong. Bad. No steal Merlin’s orange.”

“Please.” Arthur says after a moment.

“I’ve created a monster,” Merlin groans. “Okay.” He gives Arthur the slice. Arthur grins, taking Merlin’s hand before Merlin can retract it and kissing the fingers.

“Okay,” Arthur repeats.

Merlin smiles, chuckling. “Let’s clear this up now.”

He takes Arthur’s hand. “This,” Merlin kisses Arthur’s hand, “is a kiss. Kiss.” He repeats the gesture and the word.

“Kiss,” Arthur says, watching.

Merlin nods. “Kiss.”

Merlin holds up a finger. “Please…” he points to Arthur’s bread, which he knows Arthur doesn’t want. Arthur looks down at it before handing it to Merlin.

“Thank you,” Merlin tells him, putting it on his plate.

“Kiss?” Arthur asks.

Merlin would very much like to, but that would only lead to trouble and confusion down the road, with Arthur kissing everyone for everything he’s given, so Merlin shakes his head.

“So, no steal,” Merlin says, whipping his hand out and grabbing Arthur’s orange without asking and putting it on his plate. “Merlin steal Arthur’s orange! Bad.” He puts it back on Arthur’s plate. “No stealing. See? I should say please. Please, Arthur, may I have your orange?”

Arthur blinks at him. He looks down, then, to Merlin’s surprise, hands Merlin a slice of orange. Merlin is inordinately pleased. “Why thank you, Arthur!”

“Kiss,” Arthur says.

“Er,” Merlin isn’t sure why Arthur wants a kiss so much, or more importantly, _where_ he wants that kiss to go. Perhaps the penis kiss was a little too exciting.

“Okay,” Merlin says. Arthur seems to expect Merlin to bestow the kiss. He gets up and walks over to Arthur, who remains seated and looking up at him expectedly. Perhaps this is a good time to show Arthur where people normally bestow their kisses. Merlin leans down and presses his lips gently to Arthur’s, which are soft and tangy with the juice of his orange.

The kiss lasts a little longer than Merlin planned, simply because he really enjoys the feeling of his lips against Arthur’s, and Arthur stays so still, his eyes open and curious, hands curled in his lap. Merlin pulls away, eyes opening to find Arthur’s staring into his.

“Kiss,” Merlin says huskily, a little embarrassed. “Kiss. Yes.” He backs away and goes back to his seat. He picks up the orange slice Arthur gave him. “Thank you.”

After lunch Arthur goes into his bedroom, taking the picture book with him. Merlin tidies up a little, puts the luncheon plates back on the cart and wheels it into the hall, and opens the balcony doors to get some air.

He wonders if Arthur would like to take a walk. If he could just get him to put on some clothes…

He wanders to Arthur’s room and looks in. Arthur’s sitting on the bed, staring into space, looking dejected.

“Arthur?” Merlin asks. “Is something wrong?” He walks in. The book is still open to the picture of the jungle.

Arthur turns his head and looks at the wall.

“Arthur?” Merlin sits down on the bed beside him.

“Merlin,” Arthur finally says. This is the first time Arthur’s said his name, and Merlin’s thrilled.

“Yes,” Merlin nods, placing a hand on his own chest. “I’m Merlin. He reaches over and puts his hand on Arthur’s chest. “You are Arthur.”

Arthur nods.

“Orange,” Arthur says.

Merlin nods. Somewhere in the book there’s a picture of one. He turns some pages until he finds the one with all the fruit. He shows Arthur, who easily finds the orange and points to it.

“Right!” Merlin says, happy that language is coming back so quickly to Arthur. He wonders how long it might be until Arthur might be able to pick up reading once more. “Orange.”

“Arthur steal orange,” Arthur further surprises Merlin by saying pretty much a whole sentence.

“That’s right. Arthur steal Merlin’s orange,” Merlin verifies, not wanting to get into tense or anything like that at the moment.

Arthur’s look is pensive. He picks up his book and turns the pages. Merlin waits. When Arthur puts the book back down, it’s open to the photo of the jungle again. He looks up at Merlin.

“Merlin steal Arthur jungle.”

Merlin is completely taken aback. When he looks up, Arthur’s blue eyes are accusing.

Merlin starts to shake his head, but it’s the truth, isn’t it? He took Arthur away from the only home he knew. Arthur puts his hand out, clasping Merlin’s in his.

“Please,” Arthur says, eyes pleading.

“Arthur, it isn’t up to me,” Merlin tells him, his heart going out to the man whom he finds himself way too fond of already.

Arthur lets go Merlin’s hand and turns away, curling up into a ball.

“I’m sorry, Arthur. Truly,” Merlin tells him, reaching out a hand and touching Arthur’s back briefly before getting up and leaving the room.

000 

Arthur doesn’t leave his room that night, refusing dinner.

Merlin sits miserably on the couch. They’d made so much headway. Arthur doesn’t seem to hate Merlin anymore, and now here he is back to being the bad guy again. Merlin feels for Arthur, he really does. He remembers how at home Arthur had been in the jungle—how much he’d loved it and hadn’t wanted to leave. But he’s a man…he belongs here, with other men. It’s really just a matter of adjusting again, isn’t it?

Arthur sulks for a day and a half, only coming out of his room to go out on the balcony. When Merlin finds him dangling from the rails, hooting at some drunken guest below, he heaves Arthur up, cursing and admonishing him.

“You can’t hang several stories in the air, and you can’t show your naked body to the world!” Merlin tells him, heart in throat. He’d thought for a moment that Arthur had left the building altogether, and finding him hanging from one arm six floors above the pavement wasn’t much better.

Arthur stares at Merlin, unmoved.

“And you know what else?” Merlin tells Arthur, annoyed at the man’s stubborn attitude. “It’s time you have a shower.”

He leads Arthur into the bathroom.

“Arthur, if you get clean and put some clothes on, we’ll go outside.” Merlin points to the window and beyond. “Won’t that be nice?” He turns on the shower, adjusting the temperature, and arranges the soaps and shampoos. “Arthur, come here!” he calls over the sound of running water, turns around, and almost runs straight into the other man, who’s peering at the spray of water fearfully.

“You must have seen waterfalls,” Merlin tells him, “it’s kind of like that.” He takes Arthur by the arm and tries to pull him into the wide stall, but Arthur balks. Merlin’s already getting wet. He shucks his shirt and trousers and steps under the spray.

“Here, look, I’m in the shower. Now you come in.” Merlin holds out his hand for Arthur to join him.

Arthur makes a tentative step forward, and Merlin moves to take the brunt of the spray.

“How did Gwaine get you clean?” Merlin asks, wondering if perhaps Gwaine had resorted to just a wet, soapy cloth. He gets the soap and tries to hand it to Arthur, but Arthur only stares at it, uncomprehending.

“Soap,” Merlin says. “To wash with.” Merlin lathers up his hands and washes his own face, arms and shoulders, then rinses them off.

“Now you do yours,” Merlin tells Arthur, putting the soap into his hand and showing him how to lather.

Arthur tentatively does so, and Merlin steps away so that Arthur can stand under the spray to rinse. When Arthur gets soap into his eyes, he starts to whimper and then scream in distress. Merlin grasps Arthur’s chin, forcing his face under the spray.

“Open your eyes, Arthur,” he tells him, trying to pry them open with his fingers. It takes a few seconds for Arthur to catch on, for it’s instinct to keep his eyes closed against the pounding water. Arthur gasps, then blinks as his eyes begin to clear of the stinging soap.

“Ouch,” Arthur says after a moment, remembering Merlin’s word for hurt and rubbing his eyes unhappily. He holds his face up, as he’s perhaps an inch or so shorter than Merlin. “Kiss,” he says. “Please.”

Merlin’s touched, although he thinks that sooner or later Arthur’s got to figure out that his kisses do not always make things better. He kisses first one eye and then the other, which makes Arthur happy, and then Arthur grunts, pointing at Merlin’s wet boxer briefs. For just a moment Merlin’s afraid he’s going to look down and find he has a woody, but thankfully this isn’t the case. Instead, Arthur seems to be frustrated that Merlin has his underwear on in the shower. Merlin sighs and slips them off, avoiding Arthur’s curious grope with a firm “No.”

Merlin begins soaping up the rest of his body in short order. He gestures for Arthur to do the same, and in the meantime, he puts some shampoo in his hair and lathers it up, quickly rinsing it out. When he opens his eyes, it’s to get a face full of water straight from Arthur’s mouth. Arthur grins at Merlin’s sputtering.

“Very funny,” Merlin says, but can’t help smiling himself.

He decides to wash Arthur’s hair for him, because he doesn’t want a repeat of the soap-in-the-eyes incident.

He shows Arthur the shampoo and how he’s putting just a little bit into the palm of his hand. Then he brings it up to Arthur’s head and puts it into his hair, massaging it in. Merlin’s pretty sure that someone did this to Arthur when they cut his hair and even before that, probably from a chair and using a sink. Arthur allows it, and even squeezes his eyes shut during the process until Merlin gets it all completely rinsed out.

Merlin pulls down the shower attachment and makes sure Arthur’s rinses everywhere, at which point Arthur grins and spreads his arse cheeks for him. Merlin reddens a bit at that, but agreeably rinses there, too.

He turns off the water, gets them some towels, and they begin the process of drying off. Merlin’s a little surprised when Arthur takes him by the hand, making little grunting and “hooing” noises, and leads him into his bedroom. Arthur’s made a nest on his bed, pushing all the sheets and blankets into a round circle in the middle. He doesn’t head for that, but rather for the pile of pillows he’s deposited on the floor. He sits on these, pulling Merlin down beside him.

Merlin isn’t sure what’s coming, but considering that Arthur pretty much despised Merlin’s company when he first got to England, anytime Arthur wants to spend time with Merlin is considered a step up. He does feel a bit odd being naked with him, and thinks that perhaps this scenario should consist more of he and Arthur dressed neatly and seated at a table for tea and scones, pinkies delicately curled about their tea cups, but all thought flies out of his head when Arthur forces Merlin’s head down and he starts riffling through Merlin’s hair.

Merlin knows enough about chimp behavior to realize that Arthur is grooming him, and that that’s a good thing insomuch that it means that Arthur accepts Merlin and even likes him. They’ve just had a bath together and now Arthur wants to have quiet time and groom. Merlin should relax and enjoy it, but that’s easier said than done when he finds his head in the lap of the man he’s very much attracted to.

Merlin doesn’t feel that seducing Arthur Pendragon is comparable to seducing a child, even if Arthur frequently acts and sounds like one. Since Arthur arrived at the institute, he’s shown signs of rather aggressive sexual awareness and interest, although, thankfully, it’s been tempered by human control. When the psychologist saw Arthur upon his arrival, he determined that Arthur had all his faculties about him. For all intents and purposes, he is a normal twenty-five-year-old man. He just has some catching up to do.

Just since arriving at the hotel, Arthur has made some very overt attempts to rub his crotch against Merlin’s backside. It seems that Arthur doesn’t particularly relate sex with emotion, as he’s never seemed to like Merlin very much. Merlin has side-stepped and ignored these advances, but it’s been getting increasingly difficult to do so; Arthur is a very good-looking man. Add to that the jungle bad-boy persona he carries, and Merlin’s a goner. As Arthur picks through Merlin’s scalp--something that feels better than Merlin ever imagined it would--Merlin has to admit to himself that it’s his increasing feelings toward Arthur that are holding him back more than anything else.

It certainly isn’t any imagined ethical responsibilities to Arthur that keep Merlin from indulging.

In truth, Merlin went to find Arthur, not only as fodder for his book and a respite from his ex, but as a favor to Gwaine, who has a _thing_ for Morgana. Merlin was also admittedly fascinated at the thought of finding a man who’d spent the last eighteen years of his life out in the jungles of Africa living with apes. That’s it. He isn’t Arthur’s doctor. He isn’t under contract to Morgana. He was helping Morgana out; that’s all.

Arthur grunts and prods Merlin to turn onto his back, still primarily in Arthur’s lap. Arthur’s face is intent as he picks through Merlin’s chest hair. What in blazes does he think he’ll find there? He isn’t bringing anything to his mouth, thank God, like Merlin’s seen chimps do in the wild. He’s just sort of combing through Merlin’s chest hair with his fingers. Merlin thinks perhaps he should be doing something, too, so he raises his hand and runs his fingers through Arthur’s chest hair, which is a dark blond. Merlin likes the way it feels. So intent is he on his task that he jumps when he feels Arthur’s fingers move into his pubic hair, still simply moving about, searching, and, of course, Merlin begins to get hard.

Arthur looks at Merlin’s face, but Merlin purposely doesn’t meet his gaze. Instead, he lets his fingers trail down Arthur’s stomach, following the line of hair until Merlin feels something poking at his back.

Merlin stills.

Arthur’s impressive erection moves beneath him, and Merlin’s cock stiffens in answer.

Arthur reaches out and puts a finger to Merlin’s lips, sliding it about a little clumsily, nudging the flesh back and forth as though testing the feel of it before pushing the digit inside. Merlin, wide-eyed, closes his lips around Arthur’s finger, sucking on it. Arthur grunts, pushing his erection up into Merlin’s back, the hard lines of it sending tremors of want through Merlin’s loins.

Merlin turns a little in Arthurs lap, reaching out and cupping a hand under Arthur’s heavy ball sac. Arthur draws his breath in, cock leaking a little. Merlin leans in, licking the droplet off.

“Kiss,” he hears Arthur whisper reverently before Merlin gives up all pretense of telling himself he isn’t going to do this, and takes as much of Arthur’s cock into his mouth as he can, surrounding the rest with his hand. Arthur gasps and pushes upward into Merlin’s mouth. Merlin lets the spit dribble down and puddle under his palm and fingers before he begins to twist his hand, jerking Arthur off as he creates suction with his mouth and bobs his head. The sounds leaving Arthur’s mouth make Merlin’s own cock leak. It’s like Arthur’s being sweetly tortured, and it’s sexy as hell. Merlin knows without a doubt Arthur’s never had this particular act done to him before, and that the man’s in heaven. He feels Arthur’s hand gently rest on Merlin’s head, patting him almost reverently before gripping Merlin’s hair almost savagely with his fingers and tugging Merlin’s head down, gagging him on Arthur’s cock. Merlin takes Arthur in as deeply as he can, all the way to the back of his throat and down a little, and swallows around him. Arthur cries out, a purely human cry, stilling, and Merlin feels the warm semen shoot down his throat. He carefully pulls off, licking and swallowing, mouth glistening with spit.

Arthur leans his head against the side of the bed, looking spent and a little bit addled. He points to his cock and grunts insistently, obviously wanting to know the name of what just happened.

“Erm…” Merlin doesn’t want to call it “head” because that would lead to confusion. “Blow job” seems too crass. A knock at the outer door heralding their meal prompts him to say, “Let’s just call it ‘giving love,’ shall we? Merlin gave Arthur love.” He smiles, gets up, and wraps his towel about his waist to let in room service.

Merlin dresses, and when he returns to Arthur’s bedroom, he finds Arthur sitting on the bed.

“Are you hungry?” Merlin asks. “We can eat and maybe go outside. Will you get dressed?”

Merlin shows Arthur his clothes. Arthur ignores them and strides into the sitting room, looking at all the food. Merlin sighs, follows, and sits down opposite. This time their meal requires the use of a fork. Merlin shows Arthur again how it’s done, and Arthur takes to it fairly easily because he’s tried it before, although when he runs into some trouble with the noodles, spilling some on his lap and burning his skin.

Merlin can’t help but laugh when Arthur yelps, standing up and knocking the food off his lap with hurried strokes of his napkin.

“That’s what you get for eating naked,” Merlin tells him.

Arthur frowns, picks up his gelatin, and chucks it in Merlin’s face.

Merlin stops laughing.

“Do not throw food, Arthur,” he says severely. “It’s childish.”

Arthur throws his bread at Merlin with a cheeky expression.

Merlin narrows his eyes at Arthur and points his finger at him. “You deserved to burn your leg because you insist on eating in the nude. Maybe I shouldn’t have laughed, but you frustrate me with your stubbornness.”

Arthur sits down, obviously not understanding most of Merlin’s speech. Abandoning his fork, he begins eating with his fingers. Merlin rolls his eyes but says nothing.

Arthur likes the chocolate-covered strawberries that are dessert so much, he finishes his off quickly, and points to Merlin’s.

“Please,” he says, looking angelic.

Merlin gives a curt nod.

“Thank you,” Arthur remembers to say, and Merlin can’t help but smile.

“Outside,” Arthur announces when they’re finished. When Arthur opens the hotel room door, still naked as the day he was born, Merlin rushes over and closes it.

“No, Arthur, you can’t go outside like that. People wear clothes. Come here.” He leads Arthur to the balcony and points down below. “See? Everyone wears clothes. Well, those swimmers bathing suits aren’t much, but still. They cover things. You have to put something on.” He crosses to the drawers. “How about these shorts? And a T-shirt? That’s not too bad.”

Arthur backs away, moving to the door. He opens it, standing there. The same bellboy who brought their luggage up for them happens by with a trolley of suitcases, sees Arthur’s nudity, and hurries pass, eyes quickly averted.

“Oh my God,” Merlin hurries over and slams the door. “Stop doing that! That man thinks we’re utter perverts!” Merlin leans against the door so that Arthur can’t open it again. “If you want to leave this place for a while, you have to put something on.”

When Arthur finally realizes that Merlin is serious about this, he allows Merlin to help him into the shorts and T-shirt, although he absolutely refuses to wear the shoes, finally slapping the floor and walls and screaming in frustration.

Merlin gives up and takes him out. “You won’t be able to go in any shops without shoes, though,” he tells Arthur. They walk through the lobby, Arthur staring at all the people curiously as they go. When he lifts up a piece of a woman’s long hair and sniffs it, Merlin grabs his hand, apologizing, “He’s a bit simple,” and hurrying him out the door.

They stroll along the sidewalk, glancing in shop windows. It’s a small country town, and there really isn’t a lot to see, but it’s the perfect place to get Arthur acclimated because there isn’t anything to startle him too badly. He’s particularly taken with a pet shop window where he watches a couple of tropical birds hop from one perch to another. He keeps pointing to the sky and looking at Merlin to explain.

“They’re in a cage,” Merlin tells him, shrugging his shoulders, because what else can he say? When Arthur looks back at the birds sadly, Merlin feels like he’s the one who imprisoned them.

They continue walking, and presently spot a couple of teenagers snogging under a tree in a park.

“Kiss!” Arthur cries excitedly.

“Yes,” Merlin touches Arthur’s arm. “Shh, kiss. That’s right.”

Arthur turns to Merlin. “Kiss,” he demands, and pulls Merlin closer, touching their lips together.

“Mmphf,” Merlin replies against Arthur’s lips. “Indeed.” Then Arthur kisses Merlin’s hand, and then his finger. His eyes travel to Merlin’s crotch, and Merlin hurriedly pulls Arthur forward down the path.

“Look, Arthur, a dog!” he says, spotting a collie.

Arthur’s eyes get big. “Dog,” he shakes his head. “Toby, no.”

“No, it’s not Toby,” Merlin agrees. “It’s another dog.” Merlin pats it on the head, and then Arthur does, too.

Merlin buys ice cream cones from a passing vender, and Arthur tries valiantly to eat his before it melts. Merlin shows Arthur how to lick it all the way around the cone and then dip the whole thing in his mouth.

“Merlin gave ice cream love,” Arthur tells him, smiling, and it takes Merlin a moment to figure that one out. When he does, he bursts out laughing, and Arthur looks suddenly confused.

“You’re right, you’re right,” Merlin nods, wiping his eyes. “I guess I did. Oh, shit.”

“Shit?” Arthur asks.

“Oh, don’t say that, that’s a bad word,” Merlin replies. He points to Arthur’s forgotten cone. “Your ice cream’s melting. Better give it some love.”

Arthur looks down and immediately sticks out his tongue and swipes it over the dripping cone, making Merlin’s knees go weak just watching. When Arthur looks up and sees Merlin watching him, he gives him a questioning look.

“Kiss,” Merlin says, and leans in, kissing Arthur’s mouth, licking the chocolate from his lips, pressing forward until he can get his tongue inside for just a moment. When he pulls back, Arthur looks a little shocked and then pleased. Merlin’s surprised to see a blush spread over his cheeks.

They walk for a while more before heading back to the hotel, where Arthur immediately strips off his clothes before Merlin can even get the door properly closed.

Merlin’s mobile phone is ringing on the table, and Arthur stares at it. He’s never gotten used to it, and once tried to flush it down the commode.

Merlin picks it up, surprised to hear Will’s voice on the other line.

“You’re a difficult man to get hold of,” Will replies. “Where the fuck are you, anyway?”

“How nice to hear from you, too,” Merlin says sarcastically. “I’m out of town at the moment. What can I do for you?”

“You can tell me where you are so I can come and see you. I miss you.”

Merlin feels the nagging pull of a relationship long-accustomed to.

“I’m kind of working, actually. And we broke up, remember?”

“Aw, but we really didn’t break up, we just said we did,” Will corrects.

“No, I’m pretty sure we broke up,” Merlin corrects irritably. “Several months ago. And I have to go now. Bye, Will.” Merlin disconnects.

“Okay,” he sighs. “We really need to hone your eating skills, Arthur, so we can try them out in the dining room tonight. So I’m ordering up some soup. How does that sound? Think you can keep your clothes on all evening in the dining room?”

Arthur seems unconcerned. He wanders around the room, examining things while Merlin orders room service, valiantly trying not to stare at Arthur’s arse.

When the food arrives, the waiter keeps his eyes averted while he sets it out, even though Arthur comes close, watching his every move. What the man could possibly think of him, Merlin doesn’t know. He often wonders if the entire hotel staff thinks Merlin keeps a nude slave lover in his room. Merlin tips the waiter heavily before he leaves.

“Okay, Arthur, place your napkin in your lap,” Merlin tells Arthur when they’re seated. He demonstrates with his own napkin.

Arthur does so, probably thinking about the hot noodles incident from earlier in the day.

“Now pick up your spoon and watch what I do.”

Arthur watches Merlin’s every move and carefully mimics him.

“Very good, Arthur!” Merlin smiles.

Arthur smiles back. When they finish the soup, Arthur says, “Merlin kiss Arthur.”

Merlin stands up. “Well, I suppose a job well done deserves a reward.” _Yeah, right. Tell yourself that; you just want to kiss him._ He walks over and leans down. Arthur tilts his head up to receive his kiss, his mouth pliant under Merlin’s, lips opening, tongue meeting Merlin’s halfway.

“Quick learner,” Merlin says, smiling. Arthur stands up and pulls Merlin closer, kissing him more deeply. Merlin groans into Arthur’s mouth. The feel of Arthur’s naked skin under Merlin’s fingers makes them itch to move all over him.

Arthur nudges them backward until they topple onto the couch.  Arthur breaks the kiss and proceeds to nibble on Merlin’s ears.

“Arthur, um, what are you doing?” Merlin asks, heart picking up. It seems to be another form of grooming, as Arthur begins running his lips over Merlin’s jaw and neck, pushing back the collar of his shirt to get to his skin. When he gets a little too rough with his buttons, Merlin pulls the shirt over his head.

Arthur grunts and continues to mouth at Merlin’s skin in an oddly erotic manner that makes Merlin tingle all over. Arthur points to Merlin’s shorts, grunting. When Merlin doesn’t do anything, Arthur slaps the couch.

“Calm down, Arthur,” Merlin says, “you can’t have everything you want when you want it. People don’t just sit around naked. You should be dressed; I shouldn’t be undressed.”

Arthur leans forward and bites at Merlin’s neck.

“Ouch!” Merlin puts his hand to his neck.

“Kiss,” Arthur says. “Kiss, okay.” He leans in and kisses where he bit Merlin.

“You’re not supposed to hurt me just so you can kiss me better, either,” Merlin tells him, moving away.

Arthur reaches for Merlin’s shorts and tugs at them.

Merlin sighs, stands up and unbuttons his shorts, pulling them off along with his briefs. He sits back down.

Arthur purses his lips and makes a happy noise. He gets on his knees on the floor and pushes up between Merlin’s legs. Merlin’s eyes get wide, unsure of what Arthur’s going to do, but knowing what he _hopes_ he’s going to do. Merlin watches as Arthur mouths at the insides of Merlin’s thighs, getting closer and closer to his crotch, Merlin’s breathing speeding up as he does so. Then Arthur sniffs at Merlin’s sac. He looks down between his own legs, where his dick is getting hard.

Merlin suddenly wonders if Arthur is gay. It certainly seems that he is, but his situation isn’t exactly a normal one. If he were presented with a naked woman, would he get hard? What’s Vivian Dubois going to say if Arthur isn’t interested in her gender? The thought of Arthur being with someone else makes Merlin surprisingly angry.

Arthur reaches out a finger and touches Merlin’s cock, looking at Merlin with a question in his eyes.

“It’s called a _penis_ ,” Merlin says. “Or a _cock_.”

“Kiss,” Arthur seems to be asking permission, and hell, Merlin can’t say no to that. He nods his head, and Arthur leans in, pressing a kiss to the head of Merlin’s fast-growing erection. Arthur seems to like the way Merlin’s cock grows the more Arthur touches it. He grunts at it repeatedly before kissing it again and again. Then he laughs, a real human laugh that would make Merlin smile if he weren’t dying to have his cock between those lips.

Merlin tries to hold himself as still as possible when what he really wants to do is to grab Arthur and make him take him in his mouth. Arthur kisses Merlin’s cockhead again, and this time Merlin feels the distinct wetness of Arthur’s tongue. Merlin’s cock jerks at the feeling, and Arthur jumps back, surprised.

Out of all the blow jobs Merlin’s gotten over the years, this single moment hits the top of his list.

Feeling a surge of affection toward the man before him, Merlin leans in and says, “Hug, Arthur,” then pulls him close, wrapping his arms around him. Arthur knows this gesture from all the hugs he’s received from Morgana, Lance and the others and hugs Merlin back.

“Hug,” Arthur repeats.

When Merlin leans back on the couch, Arthur says, “Arthur give Merlin love,” and then he slips Merlin’s cock into his mouth before Merlin can even think, and Merlin’s gripping the couch and breathing carefully through his nostrils as Arthur sucks on him.

“Arthur…careful. Teeth!” Merlin warns when he thinks Arthur’s are getting a little too close for comfort. He reaches over and touches Arthur’s teeth under his upper lip, and Arthur covers them and goes on sucking, and _fuck_ , Merlin’s blissed out. Merlin lets out a groan, and just seeing the wild man between his legs like this brings Merlin’s orgasm rushing to the fore. When his ejaculate enters Arthur’s mouth, Arthur seems surprised, and pulls back, semen dripping from his rosy lips. He swallows, frowning, and Merlin can’t help but grin at his expression.

“Kiss,” Arthur says, and darts forward, pressing his mouth to Merlin’s, effectively stopping his laughter. Merlin doesn’t know if Arthur thought the move would displease Merlin, but he feels certain Arthur doesn’t expect him to open his mouth and except the kiss, sucking on Arthur’s bottom lip passionately, licking his own ejaculate off Arthur’s lips before pushing his tongue inside Arthur’s mouth and pulling him onto his lap, their bodies entwining.

After a moment, Merlin pulls away, getting up off the couch and leading Arthur into his bedroom where they fall onto the bed, Arthur’s body pressing into Merlin’s. He can feel Arthur’s heart pounding against his chest, passion igniting, and he runs his hand up through Arthur’s hair, tilting Arthur’s head so Merlin can better plunder his mouth with his tongue. Arthur humps his erection against Merlin, and Merlin’s so far gone, he spreads his legs, inviting, ignoring how raw his cock feels as Arthur attempts to get off on it. He doesn’t even know for certain if Arthur knows what to do, but he thinks he does. Merlin moves his mouth down to suck on the sensitive skin just below Arthur’s jaw, and Arthur moans.

Merlin looks down at Arthur’s straining cock. Licking his palm, he reaches between them and pulls at it. Arthur hisses, closing his eyes. Merlin spits into his palm and does it again, then takes some of the ejaculate that Arthur drooled onto his stomach and rubs in on there, too, Repositioning his legs, he takes Arthur’s cock and points it down until the tip of it pushes against Merlin’s hole. Arthur’s eyes fly open, and he pushes in.

“Oooh,” Arthur says as he starts to ease inside Merlin, breathing picking up.

“Fuck,” Merlin answers. It’s a little dry, and Arthur’s pretty big. It’s good, though. Really, really good. He lifts his hips. Ah….there. _Fuck_.

Arthur grunts repeatedly, enthusiastically thrusting, bumping Merlin’s prostate on every swipe. Merlin’s been with Will so long, he can’t help but compare, and _shit…this is so much better_. Hell, Arthur’s showing Merlin more attention just by the way he’s looking at him than Will ever has. And Merlin’s just all-round more turned on. He’s already hard again, his cock bouncing between them.

Suddenly, Arthur stiffens. “Merlin…” he chokes out, a blissful look appearing on his face. Sweat pours down his chest and belly, disappearing where they’re still joined, and he goes lax. Seconds later, he pulls out slowly and kisses the inside of Merlin’s knee.

Then Arthur surprises Merlin yet again by immediately slipping off the bed and getting onto all fours on the floor. He looks over his shoulder at Merlin and grunts.

Merlin glances down at his own erection. “You want me to…”

Arthur grunts again.

“God, now? Already?” Well, what did Merlin expect, getting involved with an ape man? Merlin gets up and staggers over to where Arthur’s offering himself. As though to make certain Merlin understands him, Arthur widens his legs and, lowering his face to the floor, reaches back and pulls open his arse cheeks with his hands. _The universal sign for_ _fuck me_ , Merlin thinks giddily.

Merlin practically loses his ability to breathe for a moment as he stares.

Working up some spit in his mouth, he sends a line of it down Arthur’s hole. Then he bend and licks at the pucker, pushing his tongue in a little ways, making Arthur squirm and cry out, his rim clinging to Merlin’s tongue. This is something Merlin never did for Will—never wanted to. Right now, he wants to do everything for Arthur. Everything. Merlin spits into Arthur’s hole again, then nips at the sensitive edges.

“Ah, Merlin, bite,” Arthur gasps, and Merlin marvels that Arthur’s picked up another word. He licks at him.

“Lick,” Merlin says, licking some more. He spits a few more times, and then positions his cock and drives in. “Fuck,” Merlin tells him. “Merlin fucking Arthur. Merlin fucking Arthur— _hard_! Merlin fucking Arthur – _good!_ ” He grabs hold of Arthur’s hips and thrusts repeatedly, aiming downward until Arthur jolts, telling Merlin without words that Merlin’s found the right spot.

Arthur’s grunts become more frequent and enthusiastic. He beats on the floor and squeals in a decidedly ape-like way that makes Merlin even harder. Merlin speeds up his thrusting, driving in deeper and harder. Arthur’s vocalizations turn into “Ooo–ooo-ooo,” noises.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Merlin realizes the waiter has come into the sitting room and is clearing away the dinner dishes, a witness to the ungodly noises they’re making. Beyond caring, Merlin covers Arthur with his body and goes as deep as he can, reaching underneath to play with Arthur’s hard little nipples. Merlin feels Arthur orgasm, inner muscles clinging to Merlin’s cock, just before Merlin lets go himself, releasing inside Arthur’s body with a desperate cry.

“Merlin fuck Arthur good,” Arthur says as Merlin lies atop of him, both of them breathing like bellows.

Merlin presses a kiss to Arthur’s shoulder before rolling off.

“Don’t you forget it,” he grins.

000 

That night they have dinner in the dining room of the hotel and Arthur does a stupendous job with his soup and manages to keep his clothes on throughout the meal, although he does slip his shoes off under the table. It takes a while to convince Arthur not to sniff ever new thing before putting it into his mouth, and sometimes he catches Arthur doing it surreptitiously behind his hand; he doesn’t seem to trust the unfamiliar food. The following night he tries steak, which Arthur likes very much.

Every day brings something new. One of Arthur’s favorite things is swimming in the pool.

Merlin has to buy Arthur a small bikini swimsuit, as he refuses to wear the boxer-type that Merlin prefers. Watching Arthur stalk about the pool area in the tiny red Speedo makes Merlin so hard, he can’t get out of the pool without embarrassing himself. Arthur becomes enamored with Merlin’s tight, cold nipples and continuously points at and plays with them, embarrassing Merlin further. Most of the mothers end up taking their children into the smaller pool on the other side of the fence until Arthur and Merlin go back to their rooms.

Already tan from the jungle, Arthur refuses to wear sun block, but enjoys spreading it over Merlin’s pasty-white skin, rubbing it in with sensuous movements of fingers and thumbs until Merlin is sleepy and pliant and just wants Arthur to throw him over his shoulder and take him upstairs to fuck him. Sometimes Arthur does so—not the throwing over the shoulder part, but definitely the fucking part—grabbing onto Merlin’s hair and sinking into him nuts-deep over and over again until Merlin doesn’t know where he is anymore.

At night they curl up together and go over Arthur’s language lessons.

By the time the two weeks are through, Arthur has learned many new words and passed muster in several new social situations.

They pack their bags and head back to the institute, Merlin imagining the hotel manager ordering their rooms thoroughly fumigated upon their departure.

Once situated at home, Merlin asks George to arrange for Morgana to come to dinner.

“I say,” Gwaine comments in the drawing room as they, along with Lance and his fiancée, Gwen, wait for their guest, “you have done a brilliant job with him, Merlin.”

“It was only a matter of Arthur remembering what he learned so long ago,” Merlin tells him honestly.

Arthur sits in a nearby chair, dressed to the nines in a grey Armani suit and blue dress shirt with coordinating blue tie, looking as far from someone who’d lived eighteen years in the jungle with apes as anyone could possibly look.

“Are you looking forward to seeing your sister again, Arthur?” Lance asks him. “Morgana?”

Arthur nods. “Morgana.” He smiles. “Yes.”

A moment later and Morgana arrives in a puff of perfume. She’s dressed up, too, and she exclaims over how handsome Arthur looks. “Did you have a good two weeks with Merlin?” she asks as they enter the dining area, Morgana clinging to Arthur’s arm. “Did you have a good time?”

“Yes, we had soup,” Arthur answers. “And ice cream.” Morgana smiles with delight.

“How wonderfully you speak, Arthur!” she tells him.

“Thank you,” he smiles back at her.

“He’s made great strides,” Merlin agrees proudly. “By the end of the first week, he’d stopped making nests, and, as you can hear, he’s making some sentences. He’s also keeping his clothes on. Most of the time.”

“Marvelous!” Morgana praises. “Vivian is dying to see you, Arthur. She wants to make a trip out to Camelot Estate…that’s where you two will be living when you marry.”

Arthur looks to Merlin to interpret.

“Um, Morgana, he doesn’t even know this woman,” Merlin reminds her.

“Oh, but he will. It’s a contract, Merlin. It’s the way our families have done it for generations.”

“Are you contracted to marry someone, then?” Gwen asks.

“No, I’m not…” Morgana glances quickly at Gwaine and then away, “but I’m not the heir. Arthur inherits everything.”

“I believe Arthur’s gay,” Merlin tells her.

“Gay! But that’s ridiculous!” Morgana scoffs.

“Why do you say that?” Merlin asks, face going red. Arthur sits and watches, obviously unsure of everything that’s being said, but knowing they’re talking about him.

“No brother of mine goes about fucking men!” Morgana scoffs, ire rising. She turns to Arthur. “Arthur, you want to meet Vivian, don’t you?”

Arthur brightens, having caught a word he recognizes. “Merlin fucked Arthur _hard_. Merlin fucked Arthur _good_.”

Silence at the table.

“What?” Morgana asks dully.

“Fuck,” Merlin puts his head in his hands.

“Arthur fucked Merlin, too,” Arthur grins. He turns to Merlin. “Kiss.”

When Merlin doesn’t react Arthur slaps the table. “Kiss! Kiss Arthur, Merlin!”

Merlin uncovers his face and dutifully kisses Arthur, who won’t let it go at a peck, but snogs him royally.

“We really need to work on table manners,” Gwaine comments, taking a sip of water.

“Oh, my God, you took my brother off and screwed him for two weeks!” Morgana accuses.

“It wasn’t like that!” Merlin denies. “But I assure you, he isn’t going to be interested in Vivian.”

“We’ll see about that,” Morgana replies. “You’ve obviously brainwashed him with your cock. Arthur, you’re coming home with me. Let’s go get your things.”

She stands up. Arthur looks to Merlin again.

He sighs. “Morgana wants you to go to her house with her and stay,” he tells Arthur kindly.

Arthur shakes his head. “No.”

“Arthur, we’re family,” Morgana tries.

“No,” Arthur says, slapping the table. “No, no, no!” He makes a bark-whimper of distress.

Morgana groans. “Have him ready tomorrow at eleven. Vivian and I will take him out to Camelot to look around.” She stalks off, stopping at the door and turning to glare at Gwaine. “Are you coming?”

“Why don’t I swing by later?” he offers.

Morgana narrows her eyes at him but doesn’t argue. She leaves, slamming the door behind her.

 “So,” Gwaine says after she’s gone. “You and…” he swings his finger between Arthur and Merlin and back again.

“It just happened,” Merlin tells him.

Gwaine purses his lips and nods.

Dinner is served, and everyone compliments Arthur on his superb table manners.

“When you aren’t snogging your boyfriend senseless or talking about sex, you do quite well, Arthur,” Lance comments, and Gwen and Gwaine agree.

“I’m not exactly his _boyfriend_ ,” Merlin corrects. “Things just happened.”

“Did you teach him the phrase, ‘Merlin fucked me hard; Merlin fucked me good?’” Gwaine asks. “Or did he have to struggle with that on his own?” He grins hugely.

Merlin blushes. “Shut up, Gwaine.”

“Professor Emrys, you have a visitor in the library,” George announces, coming into the room and clicking his heels. Merlin isn’t sure why he does it, and he finds it quite annoying.

Merlin excuses himself and walks down the hall, entering the library, and there stands Will before the fireplace.

“What are you doing here?” Merlin asks, surprised to see his ex.

“That’s some greeting,” Will huffs, striding over and pulling Merlin into his arms for a kiss.

Merlin pushes him away. “Seriously, Will. What are you doing here?”

Will pouts. “I’m here to see you. I told you, I never meant for us to break up.” He touches Merlin’s face.

“But I did,” Merlin says. “It wasn’t working out between us.”

Arthur appears in the doorway.

“Who’s that?” Will asks, just as Arthur puffs his chest out and lets out a scream that Merlin thinks has to echo streets away. He charges toward Will, and Will backs up several steps, falling over the back of a chair and onto the floor.

Arthur grabs hold of Merlin and pulls him into a corner with him.

Gwen, Lance, and Gwaine all enter the room at once.

“That, I believe, was the sound of an angry and threatened chimp,” Gwaine says.

“Fascinating,” replies Lance.

“Um, Will, are you all right?” asks Gwen, going to him where he’s sprawled behind the over-turned slipper chair.

“What the _fuck_ was that?” Will asks, rolling to his knees.

“Merlin fucked Arthur hard. Merlin fucked Arthur _good_ ,” Arthur states, holding onto Merlin tightly in the corner.

“I probably should never have said that,” Merlin mumbles into Arthur’s neck.

“Kiss,” Arthur says, planting one on Merlin’s cheek.

“I think you’d best go,” Gwaine advises Will. “Unless you want him here, Merlin?”

“Fuck, no,” Merlin says.

“Arthur fucked Merlin…”

“Arthur! Enough!” Merlin snaps.

“It didn’t take you long to replace me,” Will huffs as he brushes himself off and heads out the door. “But you could have at least picked somebody _human_!”

Arthur bares his teeth, and Will increases his speed out the door, slamming it behind him.

That night, Merlin lies in bed worrying about Arthur traveling with Morgana and Vivian the next day. He isn’t going to want to do it, not without Merlin present. But Merlin knows that Arthur has to learn to get along without him.

Merlin can’t sleep, so he gets out of bed and wanders down the hall to check on Arthur. Merlin finds him sitting up in bed watching a documentary on apes. Arthur’s so riveted, he doesn’t even notice Merlin walk in.

“Arthur,” Merlin says, sitting down beside him on the bed. Arthur looks at him before pointing enthusiastically at the screen.

Merlin nods. “Yes, I see. The jungle.” Merlin remembers how Arthur told him he had stolen the jungle from him, and is overcome by sadness.

Arthur points to the floor and says, “Merlin’s home.” Then he points to the television and says, “Arthur’s home.”

“I’m sorry, Arthur,” Merlin tells him, looking away. “Morgana asked me to find you. She’s your sister, and she loves you. She wants you here.”

Arthur pulls Merlin’s chin toward him. “Merlin…sad. Merlin is sad.” They’d been over emotions, as well as many other things.

“Merlin wants Arthur to be happy,” Merlin says, knowing the concept is too complicated. He lies down next to Arthur on the bed, and they hold one another. After a while, they fall asleep.

000 

Vivian almost visibly drools when she meets Arthur, and Merlin can’t blame her. He looks scrumptious in his cream-colored slacks and the blue dress shirt that matches his eyes. His blond hair falls delectably over his forehead, and if you didn’t know he’d spent almost twenty years swinging on vines with apes, you certainly wouldn’t guess it by looking at him.

But the moment that Morgana tries to get him out of the house without Merlin, Arthur balks, pressing his lips together and slapping his hands on the walls.

“What is he doing?” Vivian asks, voice heavily accented. A petite blonde whose outer appearance screams breeding and money, Merlin despises her on sight. It takes actually talking to her for Lance to hate her, but Merlin considers him a much nicer person.

“He’s afraid and frustrated. He doesn’t want to go without Merlin,” Gwaine explains to Vivian. He already knows her due to his association with Morgana, and he hates her, too.

“But why?” Vivian asks.

“You do realize he’s been living out of civilization for the past eighteen years, don’t you?” Gwaine asks her.

“Well, yes, but he’s back now, and he knows his sister…”

“He’s not very fond of cars, and he doesn’t know Morgana very well,” Gwaine tells her.

“Arthur, you’ll be fine,” Merlin tries to assure him. “Morgana will bring you back here later. We’ll have dinner together.”

Arthur gives his fearful grin.

“Why is he smiling like that?” Vivian asks, aghast.

“It’s fear,” Gwaine tells her. “It’s a chimp thing.”

“Good God, make him stop!”

“I suggest you take Merlin with you,” Gwaine says.

“Morgana, just let’s take the professor with us!” Vivian cries, stamping her foot angrily. When she does this, Arthur grabs the umbrella out of its stand and drags it along the floor like a branch, rushing her. Vivian dives behind Gwaine, squealing.

Morgana sighs. “Fine. Merlin will go with us, okay? Now will you come, Arthur?”

Arthur looks to Merlin, who smiles and puts out his hand for him to take. Arthur drops the umbrella and takes Merlin’s hand, clasping it firmly in his. They head out to the car.

It’s a fairly long drive to Camelot, and the time’s spent listening to Vivian’s chatter about how she wants to decorate the estate, and what kind of wedding she wants, and how many children she and Arthur should have. Arthur seems to tune her out, preferring to explore the texture of the skin of Merlin’s wrist and hand with his lips. Gwaine drives Morgana’s town car, and she sits up front with him, which leaves Vivian in the back with Arthur and Merlin. If Vivian notices that Merlin’s hand remains clasped fast with Arthur’s or what Arthur is doing with it, she doesn’t say anything or look troubled by it.

When they reach the estate, Merlin’s impressed by its size and splendor. He knows, of course, that the Pendragons have money. He just never knew how much. Perhaps he should have charged Morgana to go after her brother.

He relinquishes that thought when he looks over at Arthur, who is just simply the best thing that ever happened to Merlin. How he’s going to live without the man, Merlin doesn’t know, and he’s frankly afraid to find out.

Merlin honestly tried to keep sex at a minimum during their stay in the hotel, but once they’d had it, Arthur wanted more of it. He’d even crept up on Merlin in the shower and taken him from behind, not that Merlin had objected at the time. It was rough-against-the-wall sex, with Arthur lifting Merlin’s legs up onto Arthur’s forearms and pumping into him, hooting into Merlin’s ear the whole time until Merlin sprayed the shower wall with cum.

And then there had been the night Merlin woke up to Arthur stroking him to hardness and then sitting on his erection, riding him to completion.

But other than those times, he kept it to a minimum. Once or twice a day, tops. They did spend a lot of time working on Arthur’s vocabulary, even though he learned “come” “harder” “faster” “more” “top” “bottom” “slow” “mouth” “hand” “hole” “wet” “hot” “inside” and “don’t stop” before many others words.

Arthur tugs at Merlin’s hand. “I want to go,” Arthur states flatly.

They’re walking through the last of the twenty-some rooms at Camelot.

“I think the tour’s almost over,” Merlin tells him.

“It’s boring here,” Arthur says.

“This is your house,” Merlin replies. “Your home. _Arthur’s home_. You own it. You are going to live here when you marry Vivian.”

Arthur doesn’t understand, Merlin can tell.

He shakes his head. “Not Arthur’s home. Jungle is Arthur’s home. Merlin is Arthur’s home.”

Merlin looks at Arthur. He doesn’t know what to say to that. “Kiss,” he says instead, and leans in, kissing Arthur tenderly, cupping his cheek.

Vivian lets out a shriek, and Arthur pulls away, making his fear-grin.

“Would you stop making that face? Oh my God, you look demented!” Vivian yells. “Why in the hell were you kissing him?”

Merlin isn’t sure if she’s talking to him or Arthur, since she’s staring at the both of them.

Morgana looks at the floor. Gwaine’s tried to explain to her that Merlin’s right; Arthur is probably gay, but he hasn’t gotten very far.

“Well?” Vivian demands.

“I was kissing him because…I love him,” Merlin finally answers.

“You what? Well, that’s not acceptable!” Vivian huffs. “Arthur, dear, you know we’re going to be married, don’t you?”

“I doubt he even knows what marriage is,” Gwaine tells her.

She comes forward, putting on a sultry look. Stopping in front of Arthur, she touches his chest, something that probably seems very sexy to a straight man, Merlin is pretty sure. “Arthur, we’re going to makes promises in front of God and our friends and family to take care of one another forever, and then we’re going to come back here to live. And we’re going to get naked and climb into bed together and do all kinds of naughty things…doesn’t that sound like fun? And we’ll have children together!”

Arthur looks at her. He looks at Merlin. “I don’t want to leave Merlin,” he says.

“Arthur!” Vivian screeches. “He’s a man! He has a cock!”

Arthur smiles. He knows that word. “Cock.” He nods. “I give Merlin love.”

Vivian’s mouth falls open. She begins unbuttoning her shirt. Before Merlin knows it, she’s shed it, and she’s unhooking her bra.

“Viv!” Morgana cries, exasperated.

Vivian throws the lacy bra to the side. “Look at these!” She holds her breasts up for Arthur to see. “These are tits, and they’re brilliant!”

Arthur glances down at them and then back up at Vivian.

“What’s the matter with you?” Vivian yells. “Your face is supposed to look like his!” She points at Gwaine, who’s openly leering. Morgana elbows Gwaine in the stomach, hard.

“Nothing’s _wrong_ with him; he’s gay,” Merlin tells her. “Which means he’s not interested in your tits.”

Vivian is furious. She scoops up her bra and blouse and flounces out of the room, tits bouncing.

“I suppose we can have one of those open marriages,” she grumbles. “We can say Merlin’s our butler.”

Merlin scrunches up his face. “Is she for real?”

“I’m afraid so,” Gwaine croaks, holding his stomach.

They all pile into the car and drive back to the Institute.

“It’s pretty obvious to me that she only wants Arthur for his money,” Merlin tells Gwaine and Lance later that night after Arthur’s gone to bed.

Gwaine nods. “Even Morgana’s figured that one out.”

“I want to do what will make Arthur happy,” Merlin says, sitting down at his desk.

“And what would that be?” Lance asks.

“Going back to Africa and the apes,” Merlin replies sadly.

“You think that after being here in civilization Arthur really wants to go back and live with the apes?” Gwaine asks, incredulous.

“I don’t know, but I think he deserves to be able to make that decision, don’t you?”

In the end, Merlin talks it over with Morgana, who really only wants what’s best for her brother.

“I can’t see him living out there all alone. I can’t let him do it. I’ll go crazy worrying about him,” Morgana tells him. “Look, I can live with him being gay, but not being 6,500 miles away living in the jungle.”

Gwaine takes her hand. “What if we were nearby?”

“What do you mean?” Morgana asks.

“I’ve been offered the opportunity to take part in a study just outside of Rwanda. If you were to come with me…”

Morgana’s lips part. “Really?”

“You’ve been funding such things for a while. You could get involved. We could get engaged…”

A smile blossoms over her face.

So it is decided that Merlin, Gwaine, and Morgana will take Arthur back to the rainforest he loves, and if he wants to stay, Gwaine and Morgana have the option of living there for at least two years.

Arthur isn’t anxious to board a plane. He doesn’t remember the trip to Britain because he was heavily sedated, and Merlin really thinks for a while that they’re going to have to sedate him again. It’s strange what a difference three months can make. Arthur seems so changed from the ape man they brought back from Africa who had swung from vines and beat on his chest. Will Arthur want to stay, or will he be able to turn his back on the jungle for good? Merlin fervently hopes so, because he doesn’t think he can stand to think about his own future otherwise.

By the time Morgana’s private jet circles the private airstrip, Arthur is bouncing in his seat, face pressed to the window where miles of uninterrupted rainforest stretch out before them. Peter Lorton, the gentleman who housed Merlin and the others on their previous expedition, meets them when they disembark, his plantation-style house just across the way.

“Arthur, wonderful to see you again,” Peter greets him, all British manners, his eyes raking over Arthur with approval. The last he’d seen of him, Arthur was screaming like an enraged chimp and had to be sedated.

“And Morgana, lovely to finally meet you.” He kisses both of her cheeks.

Gwaine puts a proprietary arm around her and informs Lorton that he is now her fiancé, as they have agreed to be married within the month. Merlin covers his grin and greets Lorton before turning to Arthur, who’s looking around as though his beloved jungle has somehow been taken from him yet again now that he can’t see it as he did from the plane.

“Don’t worry; it’s out there,” Merlin tells him, and Arthur smiles with excitement.

Peter leads them to a covered jeep, and they all climb in. It isn’t long before they’re ensconced in rooms in Peter’s large, plantation style house. The sun is setting, and Arthur paces the bedroom.

“It’s too late in the evening to go out there now,” Merlin tells him. “We’ll go after breakfast.”

Arthur gives Merlin a disbelieving look. “I lived in the jungle all the time,” he tells Merlin carefully. “Not just in the daylight.”

“Perhaps I’m afraid,” Merlin informs him. Arthur stops pacing and comes to stand in front of Merlin, taking his face in between his hands.

“Arthur will… _I will_ protect you,” Arthur corrects himself.

Merlin takes Arthur’s wrists in his hands. “I know you will. Still, I’m tired. Can’t we wait until morning?” Arthur looks disappointed, but nods, and kisses Merlin. Merlin pulls him in, not wanting to let go, never wanting to let go. Arthur seems to sense his emotion, and whispers in his ear.

“Tomorrow…we go to the river. Take these stupid clothes off and swim.” He presses his lips to Merlin’s neck, kisses becoming more forceful until Merlin doesn’t have any breath left in him.

“Ar-Aren’t there crocodiles in the river?” Merlin asks as Arthur sucks on Merlin’s Adam’s apple, and Arthur laughs.

“Yes, okay, no swimming in the river. We will find smaller water. No crocs, Merlin. Or hippos.”

“Or maybe we’ll just have a picnic under some trees,” Merlin suggests, leaning into Arthur as Arthur pushes his hands down the back of Merlin’s trousers to cup his arse.

“We swing from trees and find chimps,” Arthur tells him, nibbling on Merlin’s ear, breath hot.

Merlin pulls back. “ _You_ swing from trees, Arthur. Not me.”

“You learn,” Arthur says, looking into Merlin’s eyes. “I teach you, like you teach me to eat with the fork.”

Merlin shakes his head, disentangling himself from Arthur’s arms. “I won’t be doing any tree swinging, Arthur.”

Arthur frowns. “Yes.”

“No,” Merlin shakes his head again.

Arthur purses his lips, brows deeply furrowed. After a moment, his face clears. “Please,” he tries, smiling a little.

Merlin again shakes his head.

Arthur bends down and smacks the floor in frustration, but Merlin crosses his arms over his chest stubbornly. Arthur jumps up, and in a swift move that takes Merlin completely by surprise, swoops Merlin over his shoulder and off his feet, depositing him on the bed.

Merlin’s not sure if Arthur’s giving up or trying to beat Merlin’s will down with sex, but Arthur has Merlin’s pants off in a flash and the next thing Merlin knows, Arthur’s giving Merlin so much “love,” Merlin’s about to explode with it. Arthur withdraws his mouth before Merlin can, though, and rids himself of his clothing, climbing up onto Merlin and lowering himself onto Merlin’s spit-slick cock.

Just watching Arthur ride him, leaning back, body taut and gorgeous, erect cock waving about, makes Merlin tense with longing. His body coils and explodes in a heady climax that has him biting his hand to hold back his yell. It brings tears to Merlin’s eyes, and he squeezes them shut. Arthur jacks his cock until it shoots cum, splashing Merlin’s face and open mouth.

Merlin laps it up greedily, eagerly taking in any part of Arthur he can get, because he knows he’s going to lose him. Knows he’s lost part of him already to the lush jungle waiting only miles away.

 000

The following morning Arthur’s up early, bouncing around, hardly eating any breakfast at all. He scowls at everyone until they’re dressed and in the jeep, Merlin full of trepidation at what the day will bring. He wonders if Arthur will even be with them when they return to the plantation.

Merlin doesn’t particularly like the jungle. He hates snakes, is afraid of predatory cats, and is aware that there’s only too many ways to die there. The expedition to bring Arthur home had been less than his cup of tea, and finding himself back there so soon is something of a nightmare.

Arthur, however, has an innate sense of what is dangerous and what is not, and appears completely at ease. He strips his clothing off piece by piece until he’s only wearing his boxer briefs, which Merlin insists he keep on for Morgana’s sake, and when they stop the jeep, Arthur hops onto the hood and begins a series of chimp calls that have Morgana and Lorton staring wide-eyed. When leaves rustle overhead and eyes begin peering at them from out of the foliage, Morgana grabs at Gwaine’s arm. Gwaine has a stun gun, just in case, tucked underneath his seat, and he leans forward, fingers feeling for it.

Arthur smiles delightedly, grabs a loose coil of thick vine, and quick-as-you-please, swings into the upper canopy without even a backward glance.

Merlin sags into his seat, devastated.

“I’m sure he’ll be back shortly, mate,” Gwaine tells him. “He hasn’t seen his chimp friends in months, and he left them rather abruptly. There’s probably a lot of…er…catching up to do.”

But when lunchtime rolls around and Arthur isn’t back, it’s decided that they should head to the plantation to eat. Merlin’s mood is sullen and morose. He hadn’t expected Arthur to bolt quite so suddenly and so thoroughly.

He finds he can’t swallow a bite. After the others eat and take a mid-day siesta, the group drives back to the spot where they left Arthur and wait for him until darkness falls and they’re forced to go back to the plantation. Even though Merlin knows Arthur is perfectly capable of surviving, he hates leaving him out in the jungle overnight, and so does Morgana. She frets so much about it, Gwaine asks Lorton to phone his physician and order a sedative. Merlin takes the covered jeep back out again and sleeps in it, gun held firmly in his hands. He jerks awake at gentle fingers caressing his face.

“Arthur?” Merlin sits up to find Arthur leaning into the jeep, smiling at him.

“Come,” Arthur says, pulling on Merlin’s hand.

Merlin stretches out of his cramped position and exits the jeep, allowing Arthur to tug him through the dense, dark foliage still covered in dew and out onto an open plateau that looks over miles of rainforest. The early morning sun is just peeking over the horizon, casting orange, red, yellow, and gold hues over the land around them. Far below, the Congo River is visible twisting its way through all the emerald green.

The view is breathtakingly beautiful.

“Home,” Arthur says, and Merlin sees there are tears in his eyes.

Merlin nods. “I understand.”

Arthur squats. He’s lost his boxer briefs and wears some kind of animal skin about his waist much like he wore the day Merlin found him. Merlin takes a seat beside him, looking out at the spectacular view and watching the sun rise over the jungle.

“You want to stay here, don’t you?” Merlin asks, although he knows the answer. Arthur looks happier than Merlin’s ever seen him.

“Yes,” Arthur nods, smiling. “He takes Merlin’s hand in his, squeezing it.

“Morgana and Gwaine are going to be staying at Lorton’s. You won’t be without family like before,” Merlin tells Arthur, swallowing the huge lump forming in his throat. Although he knew this was coming, it’s still terribly difficult.

Arthur tilts his head and squints his eyes at Merlin. “Arthur not alone. Arthur have chimps. Arthur have Merlin.”

Merlin looks Arthur in the eyes. “No, Arthur. I’m not staying here. The jungle isn’t my home; it’s yours.”

Arthur frowns deeply. “ _Arthur_ is Merlin’s home,” he says emphatically and turns, picking up a yellow flower growing nearby. He bites off a petal and hands it to Merlin. Merlin sighs and obediently tries one. It tastes like one might think a petal would taste…like thin, sweet paper.

After a few minutes, Arthur gets up and holds his hand out to Merlin. This time he drags him down a path. Tropical birds make all kinds of noise, and soon a regular cacophony rises in the trees above. Merlin grasps Arthur’s hand, trusting him to know when and where danger lurks. They stop in front of a giant tree that looks much like every other giant tree around them to Merlin, and Arthur reaches up and grasps a coiled vine, pulling himself up. He grunts, and reaches down for Merlin.

“Didn’t we already discuss this?” Merlin asks him. “I’m not going to swing from trees!”

“Not swing, just climb,” Arthur tells him. “Come on, _Mer_ lin!” Arthur’s emphasis on the first syllable of his name brings a smile to Merlin’s lips, the aristocratic snobbishness so out of place on the man when he’s wearing a loin cloth and hanging from a vine. Arthur flashes him a bright smile and waves his fingers at him. Merlin sighs and comes toward him, grasping the vine above Arthur’s hands and allowing Arthur to clasp him around the waist with one arm. Soon they are very much _swinging_ high into the branches, and Merlin suddenly finds himself toppling into a large chimp nest.

“Arthur!” he bellows, looking over the side and getting dizzy. “I hate heights!”

Arthur laughs and pulls Merlin down into the nest with him, kissing him leisurely until Merlin stops complaining and starts kissing him back. Merlin never thought he’d get up to some monkey business in a tree, but he does, and finds he likes it. Very much. Arthur’s chimp calls and screams of approval rattle the nest and reverberate throughout the forest, causing apes all around them to answer back in a frenzy of whooping calls. Merlin comes hard into Arthur’s arse, aware that there are at least five sets of chimp eyes glued upon them through the branches.

Arthur has stored some berries in the nest, and he feeds them to Merlin. Merlin feels a bit as though he’s dreaming, sitting in a chimp’s nest high above the African rainforest with his lover. It begins to rain, fat drops turning into a torrent of steely needles, their steady falling building up a racket all around them, but Merlin and Arthur huddle beneath the palm leaves that cushion part of the nest and remain relatively dry.

Merlin removed his clothes when they had sex, and he finds he doesn’t miss them in the heat and humidity. He curls closer to Arthur and sleeps.

“They’re going to wonder where I got to,” he tells Arthur later when they waken from their nap. “Gwaine’s going to come looking.”

“Let him look,” Arthur replies, unconcerned.

“Arthur,” Merlin runs his fingers through Arthur’s hair and then pulls him in for a kiss. “Let’s get down from here.”

The descent is much more frightening than the ascent. Merlin keeps his eyes tightly shut as Arthur swings them down to the ground.

“Fuck!” he yells as his stomach drops. Merlin opens his eyes to find Arthur laughing at him.

“Shut it,” Merlin grumbles. They walk back to the jeep, giving wide birth to a tree boa they see along the way.

“You’re coming with me, right? Back to the plantation?” Merlin asks Arthur, unsure.

Arthur nods, but looks a little longingly over his shoulder at the jungle as he climbs into the jeep.

Back at Lorton’s, Morgana throws her arms around her brother. “Thank God! Where did you disappear to? And Merlin! We saw the jeep abandoned at the edge of the jungle!”

“I slept in the jeep, and Arthur came to get me,” Merlin tells her. “Sorry I worried you all.”

“I figured as much, but I wasn’t sure,” Gwaine tells him. “It was the small part of me that worried you’d wandered off that got to me.”

“I’m really sorry,” Merlin tells him. “Arthur wanted to show me what a nest is like.”

Gwaine raises a brow. “You got into a chimp’s nest?”

Merlin nods. “Very high off the forest floor.”

“Bet you loved that,” Gwiane laughs, well aware of Merlin’s fear of heights.

Arthur pulls Merlin into a smothering embrace. “My Merlin,” he says, glowering at Gwaine.

Gwaine holds his hands up. “That’s fine, mate. I have no real interest in him.”

“Oh, Arthur,” Morgana points out. “Could you possibly change out of that loin cloth into some clothes? We were just sitting down for dinner. And a bath would be nice.”

Arthur grunts, but heads for the bathroom.

“He wants to stay here,” Merlin tells them, straightening out his own rumpled clothes and avoiding eye contact.

“You aren’t surprised, are you?” Gwaine asks.

“No,” Merlin says shortly. They head for the dining room.

“We’ll watch out for him, Merlin,” Lorton assures him.

Arthur joins them some ten minutes later dressed in a simple shirt and trousers, his hair wet and slicked back from his face. He looks so handsome, Merlin wants to cry. He spends an inordinate amount of time staring at his plate throughout dinner so no one will see how upset he is, while Morgana chats about Gwaine’s upcoming study on the bonobo. Morgana’s pilot will be flying him home tomorrow night, and Arthur won’t be on the plane with him. He’s barely known the man a little over three months, and how is he going to live without him?

“You’ve been very quiet this evening,” Gwaine comments as they break up after dinner.

“Have I?” Merlin asks. “I didn’t mean to be.”

“I know you better than that,” Gwaine puts an arm around him. “Perhaps you can ask Arthur to go back with you?”

“It wouldn’t be fair to him. He wants me to stay here—to live in the jungle with him. I tried to explain to him that I can’t. He doesn’t understand. I want to spend the whole day with him tomorrow, before I have to leave.”

“Of course,” Gwaine replies. “I’ll tell Morgana.”

Merlin finds Arthur in the bedroom, pacing. He looks up when Merlin enters.

“Go back to the jungle. Sleep in nest,” Arthur tells him.

“You don’t want to sleep here?” Merlin asks. “In the bed? It’s our last night.”

Arthur tilts his head. “Last night in the bed?”

Merlin nods.

Arthur grunts, looking at the offensive piece of furniture. He sighs and sits down on it. “Okay. Merlin say please?” He gives Merlin a coy look.

“Please, Arthur,” Merlin smiles.

“Please, yes. Okay. Kiss.” Arthur leans his face up, and Merlin leans down to kiss his lips, wondering if he will count the kisses from now until the last one. Arthur’s lips are soft and pliant as always, and Merlin can’t get enough of them.

“I love you, Arthur,” he tells Arthur.  Arthur pulls away, smiles, and draws his cock out of his pants. Merlin laughs.

“No, I mean…” Merlin puts a hand over his heart. “I love you,” he says with feeling. He takes his hand off his heart and puts it over Arthur’s. “So much.”

He kisses Arthur again.

And again.

 000

  
The next morning, bright and early, Arthur insists they go to the jungle. Merlin obliges, humoring Arthur in his every desire by hiking, eating berries and nuts, playing with the small chimpanzees that come exploring, and making love on the plateau where they’d watched the sun come up the day before. It’s bittersweet, special, and excruciatingly painful for Merlin as he feels their time together slipping away. He’d packed his bags before they’d left and stowed them in the jeep, and if Arthur had noticed, he didn’t say anything, and steadfastly refused to speak about the possibility of Merlin _not_ living there in the jungle with Arthur forever.

As the sun dips low on the horizon, Merlin looks over at Arthur’s profile where he leans against an African oak.

“It’s time, Arthur.”

Arthur doesn’t turn his head.

“I have to go now,” Merlin tells him.

Arthur continues staring out over the rainforest at the winding Congo River. A breeze blows through his hair, ruffling the blond strands. Merlin thinks he’ll never forget this moment and the way Arthur looks if he lives to be a hundred.

He gets to his knees. “Aren’t you even going to say goodbye?” he asks softly.

Arthur blinks, but doesn’t speak. He doesn’t look at Merlin.

Merlin gets to his feet and turns to go.

“Merlin stay with Arthur.” The words are low, emphatically spoken.

“I can’t, Arthur,” Merlin tells him. “I’m not like you. I haven’t lived here most of my life… my home is in Britain.”

“Arthur is your home!” Arthur yells so loudly, birds take flight in the trees overhead. Arthur’s jawline is tense.

Tears clog Merlin’s throat.

Arthur hasn’t moved from his spot by the tree. He continues to look out over the river.

Merlin turns and crouches beside Arthur. “Yes, Arthur is my home. But the jungle is not. I’ll always love you, Arthur.”

Arthur finally turns his head, face stoic, eyes wet. “Please. Please, yes. Okay, kiss. Thank you.”

Merlin feels as though he’s breaking in two. “It isn’t that easy, Arthur. I’m sorry. I can’t live in this jungle. Sure, I could stay at Peter’s a while, but eventually I’d have to return to Britain. That’s just the way it is. It’s easier to break this off now. You want to be here, in the jungle, and I don’t blame you for that. I’m sorry I took it away from you, but I’m not sorry we had this time together. Do you understand?”

Merlin reaches out and brushes his fingers down Arthur’s wet cheek before standing again.

Arthur puts his hand over his heart. “Ouch,” he says, tears spilling down his cheeks. Merlin finds himself mirroring the movement and repeating, “Ouch.” He turns and leaves, running all the way back to the jeep as fast as his legs will move, jumping over fallen branches and dodging trees, never looking back, afraid if he does he won’t be able to make himself go.

 000

_One year later_

Merlin curses his stupid laptop. Why it continues to lock up on him, he doesn’t understand. He puts it away and goes to take a shower. He’s late already, and Leon will have to wait.

Every morning Merlin tries to type for a solid two hours while drinking his coffee before taking a run around the park. Then he showers, eats, and types for another two hours. The rest of the day is spent on his former scholarly endeavors. His book complete and a publisher interested, he’s begun a new book because he can’t let himself have a moment of peace. If he does…well.

If it hadn’t been for this book, Merlin doesn’t think he could have made it the past year. Leaving Arthur back in that jungle had been the hardest thing he’s ever done. He’s had to pick his life back up piece by piece, tell himself that he couldn’t have possibly fallen for a man who’d lived most of his life in the jungles of Africa _with chimpanzees_ , _for Christ’s sake_. The whole thing is ludicrous.

That gets him through most days, anyway.

The nights are the worst, when Merlin sits by the fire fingering the little toy boat or staring at the small picture he’s framed that someone took of the two of them looking through a book together. It must have been Gwen—she was always taking pictures of Arthur’s progress.

And that’s why Merlin’s given in and finally accepted the attentions of Leon Degrassi, owner of Degrassi Publishing and publisher of his book, _The Rescue and Rehabilitation of Arthur Pendragon_. Leon had been fascinated by it from the start, and, it seems, equally fascinated by Merlin, although he didn’t make that clear until a couple of months ago. Leon, of course, is perfectly aware of Merlin’s former relationship with Arthur—it’s all in the book, after all. Leon’s spent many evenings by the fire with Merlin over a glass of sherry listening with rapt attention to his tales of training Arthur in the ways of civilization.

He’s been particularly interested in the nature of Merlin’s relationship with Arthur, but Merlin hasn’t gotten into the details of that with him, choosing to leave it to the imagination. If Merlin’s honest with himself, he can’t bear to talk about it. The memories of what he had with Arthur are excruciatingly painful to him, even now.

There has been much laughter, and even more flirting on Leon’s part. Recently, Merlin allowed Leon to kiss him. It hadn’t been anything close to what Merlin felt with Arthur, but it hadn’t been bad.

Sometimes Merlin tries to convince himself that he couldn’t have felt for Arthur what he thought he had. He didn’t know him long enough. Their relationship was too odd. If he can just believe that’s true, maybe he can move on.

So Merlin finds himself having accepted Leon’s invitation to some charity dinner that night to save the African rainforest. _There’s irony for you_ , Merlin thinks as he ties his tie, George having let Leon into the library. But, of course, Leon is very interested in the rainforest, which is why he’s publishing Merlin’s book in the first place.

When Merlin enters, Leon stands, dashing in his tux, his ginger hair and beard nicely trimmed and rather sexy in Merlin’s opinion. Perhaps this will work out well after all. Perhaps Merlin will be able to respond to this man and put the past behind him.

Leon presses his lips to Merlin’s. “You look wonderful,” he murmurs into Merlin’s ear, warm breath playing over the sensitive skin there.

“Thank you. So do you,” Merlin smiles. “Sorry I’m running late. I had some trouble with the laptop.” He takes Leon’s arm and they head outside, George clicking his heels behind them. Leon’s Porsche is at the kerb, and the building that’s housing the gala is only a few blocks away, so they find themselves only a couple of minutes late.

“They call it fashionable,” Leon tells Merlin with a smile.

The night is cool and breezy, and Merlin takes a deep breath as they walk toward the glass double doors, Leon opening one for Merlin to enter ahead of him. The corporation sponsoring the event has gone all-out: the lobby bedecked with twinkling lights, a champagne bar set up with waiters cruising through the crowd, and dancing in a nearby ballroom. Dinner will be served during the main event as speakers give presentations on the rainforest and its needs, and Merlin’s stomach growls at the thought; he hasn’t eaten all day.

“You should have been asked to present,” Leon tells Merlin, squeezing his arm. “You would have been the most popular one here.”

“I doubt that,” Merlin blushes. “Plus I don’t have much to say, other than I once pulled an unwilling man out of the African rainforest and brought him back there.” He says it flippantly, but it just about kills him to do it.

“I haven’t seen the program,” Leon comments, handing Merlin a glass of champagne. Merlin takes a sip and smiles, tentatively trying out his flirting skills. He hasn’t flirted since Will. He didn’t have to do any flirting with Arthur—things had just happened. Arthur wouldn’t have known what he was doing anyway. Merlin chuckles to himself, thinking about Arthur’s probable reaction to Merlin’s flirting, which inevitably leads to a painful stab to Merlin’s heart, even after all this time.

Merlin tried to keep in touch-- telephoned Gwaine periodically to ask how Arthur was doing. At first Arthur stayed away from the plantation and Morgana checked on him in the rainforest, but then Gwaine began reporting that Arthur came around more and more. Pretty soon Merlin found that hearing about Arthur just made him hurt too much, and he stopped ringing up Gwaine for updates.

Leon escorts Merlin into the dining room, and they find a seat. The first course salads are served.

“Do you like to dance?” Leon asks Merlin, leaning into him a little, touch warm.

“A bit,” Merlin replies. “I’m afraid I’m not very good at it.”

“Oh, I’m sure that isn’t true.”

It’s polite small talk, the thing of first dates. Merlin deplores it. They continue eating.

“The first speaker will be up soon,” Leon comments. “Mmm…these are almonds. Delicious.”

“I’m going to head to the men’s room before it starts,” Merlin puts his napkin on the table and scoots back. “I’ll just be a moment.”

Leon smiles and begins talking to the woman on his left. Merlin makes his way around the white clothed tables, not thinking of anything in particular, when he spots a familiar face coming out of the restroom corridor.

“Morgana!” he breathes, stupefied, and she turns.

“Merlin!”

“What…I didn’t know you were in town!”

“I only just arrived,” she replies, a little flustered. “I’m a last minute replacement speaker…the cause is such a good one. Well, not totally last minute, as the flight is so long, but you know what I mean, I—“

Someone calls her name.

“I have to go. I’m first on the agenda.” She heads for the stage, and Merlin quickly uses the facilities and heads back to his table.

“Morgana has taken the first speaker’s place!” Merlin whispers in Leon’s ear. Of course, Leon knows this, because Morgana is already talking.

She’s explaining about the expedition to find her brother. People are enraptured by her words—even though it had been in the news at the time. Finding Arthur had been kept on a low profile, though; something Morgana was able to accomplish due to her ability to throw about large amounts of money—otherwise Arthur would have been swamped by paparazzi. The audience simply can’t believe that a seven-year-old boy had survived eighteen years in the jungles of Africa with only chimps for company. Sometimes Merlin still can’t believe it himself.

“But let’s not waste time with me telling you about it,” Morgana tells the crowd. “You can hear it from my brother, Arthur!” And with that, everyone applauds wildly as Arthur Pendragon takes the stage.

Merlin feels as though someone has poured cement into his brain and it’s slowly solidifying his body. He can’t move. He can’t breathe. He certainly cannot speak. He’s rooted to the spot. He knows Leon is watching him carefully. He knows that his own mouth hangs open, but he’s powerless to close it. The sound of applause roars in his head like a freight train, and for a dizzying moment, Merlin fears he’s going to faint dead away onto the floor.

For Arthur is there before him, the stage lights shining on his brilliant blond hair, his eyes bluer than ever. He’s wearing a tux, and he’s gorgeous…ever so gorgeous…and Merlin loves him, still loves him, _God help him, Merlin still loves him as much as he ever did, and more._

Merlin’s accosted by the sudden feeling that he wants to climb over all these people’s heads to get to Arthur, to hold him in his arms and breathe in his scent.

The crowd hushes, and Arthur speaks, his voice so much more fluent than it had been when Merlin last saw him. To the trained ear, Arthur speaks only slightly more slowly than average.

“Good afternoon, my name is Arthur Pendragon, and, as my sister Morgana just informed you, I spent eighteen years of my life living with the chimpanzees of the rainforest in the African Congo.” He smiles brilliantly, and Merlin’s sure the entire room melts.

“Wow,” Leon says from beside him.

“It’s probably hard for you to believe, listening to me speak now, that when I was first brought back from the rainforest, I couldn’t speak at all. I’d forgotten how.”

There are gasps and murmurs from the audience.

“My rescuer, Professor Merlin Emrys, had to teach me language all over again, although I took to it pretty quickly. I’m afraid Dr. Emrys had his hands full with me at first, as I was pretty upset with him for taking me away from the jungle-- I liked it there so much.”

Arthur begins telling about how he’s been tutored this past year in a variety of subjects, and about what he’d like to learn in the future. He speaks for a long time about the beauty of the rainforest and the things that they’re working to preserve, because evidently, Arthur has joined forces with Morgana, Gwaine, and others in that endeavor. Merlin finds himself zoning out, simply listening to the tone of Arthur’s voice and watching him move, every inch of Merlin’s body remembering him.

Finally, Arthur opens the floor for questions, and several people ask about the sort of wildlife found in the rainforest. Arthur answers, his sense of humor and capability of vivid description captivating the room. Someone raises their hand and wants to hear more about his time after coming out of the jungle.

For a moment, Arthur appears to go somewhere far off in his head. Finally, he says, “It was a difficult time, but a time I wouldn’t trade for anything in this world.”

People seem to be a little confused by that answer.

“How difficult was it to acclimate you to civilization again?” A man in the front asks.

“I’m afraid that’s something you’d have to ask Dr. Emrys,” Arthur replies. Morgana and Gwaine, the latter whom Merlin didn’t even realize was there until that moment, erupt in an argument behind Arthur, and suddenly Gwaine leans in and takes the microphone from Arthur’s hand.

“Fortunately for us, Dr. Emrys is here tonight! Merlin, will you join us?”

There’s a gasp all around, followed by applause, and Merlin stiffens in his chair. Did he just hear right? Merlin sees Arthur’s face go ashen as he looks around the audience with wide eyes, and for a moment Merlin’s really afraid Arthur might topple over. Merlin jumps up from his seat and heads for the stage, quickly moving between tables before taking the stairs two at a time.

Arthur steps back, body swaying, and Gwaine grabs hold of him.

“Stupid move,” Merlin hears Morgana say.

“Shut it, Morgana,” Gwaine tells her before giving Arthur a gentle shove forward, momentum pushing him into Merlin’s arms. Merlin catches him, holding him up.

“Arthur! Are you all right?” _God, it feels so good to hold you again._

“Merlin!” Arthur manages to say before gaining his footing. The audience murmurs in concern. Someone hauls a chair up onto the stage for Arthur to sit on, and someone else hands him a glass of water to drink.

Merlin takes the microphone and begins answering questions as best he can, wishing he could just stand there and stare at Arthur. He doesn’t even know half of what he’s saying. Fortunately, much of his time with Arthur is ingrained in his memory due to having written it all down so recently for his book.

“Arthur and I spent a lot of time together and became very close,” Merlin replies in answer to a woman who inquires about their relationship.

“I’d say it was a bit more than that!” a sharp voice pipes up, and Merlin looks to a corner table near the back. He recognizes Vivian Dubois sitting beside an older man.

Morgana takes Merlin’s microphone. “Vivian! How lovely to see you.” She turns to the audience and informs them, “Miss Dubois has given untold amounts of money to our cause. The Dubois family is exceptionally charitable. Oh! Haven’t we been awful hogging the stage? It’s time for the next speaker.”

Merlin turns to find that Arthur is no longer behind him. He exits to the right, looking around. The hall is empty.

_Where the hell did he go?_

Merlin turns and heads down another hall, his heart squeezing at the thought that Arthur might have slipped out the back door without even waiting to speak with him.  A moment later he spots him at the very end of the next hall.

“Arthur, stop!” Merlin calls, running after him.

Arthur halts in his tracks, but doesn’t turn around, his back straight and stiff.

Merlin stops behind him, putting a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. He can feel him shaking through the jacket of his tuxedo.

“Arthur? Arthur, please.” Merlin’s voice doesn’t sound like his own. He leans his head on Arthur’s back. “It’s—it’s so good to see you again.”

“Is it?” Arthur asks. He turns around slowly, his face a blank.

“Of course it is!” Merlin replies, heart pounding, eyes drinking in every detail of Arthur’s handsome face—sharp jaw, flashing eyes, dark lips. “God, I’ve missed you.”

“You have a strange way of showing it,” Arthur raises his chin imperiously. “You never came back to see me.”

“God, you speak so well,” Merlin replies, unable to believe it.

“Thank you,” Arthur says. “Goodbye.” He turns to go.

Merlin grabs his arm. “No, wait.” He looks down. “I’m a coward, I admit. It would have hurt too much, Arthur, to go back and see you again.”

He looks back up. “I take it you don’t live in the jungle any longer?”

Arthur shakes his head, his façade cracking a bit. “No. I thought…if I only could...” He shakes his head. “Forget it.”

“If you only could…what?” Merlin asks, frowning, wondering what could have brought Merlin out of his beloved jungle.

“Merlin?” Leon inquires from behind him. “There you are. So this is Arthur! Hello.”

Leon is a nice chap, but just then Merlin wants to clock him.

“Yes, this is Arthur,” he replies, stepping back. “Arthur, this is a friend of mine, Leon.”

The two men shake hands, Arthur looking wary, Leon curious.

“Leon, I’m sorry, can we have a minute?” Merlin says evenly, never taking his eyes from Arthur’s face. Arthur, on the other hand, blatantly looks Leon over.

“That’s okay, we’re through,” Arthur nods, backing away.

“No, we aren’t, Arthur!” Merlin tells him, stepping forward. “We need to talk.”

Leon looks from one to the other before laying a hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “Of course. Take all the time you need. I’ll be waiting in the dining room.” He turns and retreats down the hall.

“Nice fellow,” Arthur replies, watching Leon go.

“Arthur, I have suffered without you for the past year,” Merlin tells him flatly.

Arthur looks away, but not before Merlin sees the uncertainty in his eyes.

“I gave you up to the jungle because that’s where you wanted to be,” Merlin reminds him. “It wasn’t easy. It wasn’t my choice!”

Arthur doesn’t move.

“Look at me, dammit!” Merlin demands. “Please,” he says softly.

Arthur turns, and his eyes are wet. Merlin’s heart dissolves into his shoes.

“I love the jungle, but I love you more,” Arthur says hoarsely.

“Then why didn’t you tell me? Call me?” Merlin demands, grasping hold of Arthur’s hands in his.

“You stopped calling,” Arthur tells him, voice lowered. “When I started coming back to the plantation…I thought maybe if I could become more civilized, I could find you again, and we could be together. But you stopped calling, Gwaine said. I figured you lost interest in me.  Found someone new.” He looks pointedly over Merlin’s shoulder to where Leon disappeared a moment earlier.

“Arthur,” Merlin sighs, “would you believe this is the first date I’ve had since I last saw you?” Merlin asks, a small smile playing about his lips.

“It is?” Arthur frowns.

Merlin nods slowly. “I’ve been writing mostly. About you. It’s been hell, Arthur. But I thought you were happy where you were, and that kept me going.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” He lets go of Arthur’s hand and feels in the pocket of his tux, pulling out the little wooden boat. “I keep this with me.” He hands it to Arthur who turns it over in his hand. “Your book is by my bed. They help keep you close to me, always.”

Arthur looks up from his old toy and reaches out, touching Merlin’s cheek.

“I used to go to that place…that looks over the river,” he tells Merlin. “I’d sit for a long time just thinking about you. About us. Wishing you were there. Then I realized I had nothing without you. The jungle wasn’t home anymore. You are home to me, like I told you before.”

Arthur takes a step forward, putting a trembling hand over his heart. “Merlin, I love you.” He lifts his hand and places it over Merlin’s heart, just as Merlin did to him a year ago in Africa. “So much.”

Merlin blinks back tears.

“Oh, thank God,” Gwaine bursts out from behind Merlin. “I told you a little interference was in order, Morgana.”

Morgana wrings her hands, eyes wide. “I thought you’d moved on, Merlin. I was afraid Arthur would be hurt.”

Merlin shakes his head, stepping closer to Arthur, his eyes never leaving him for a second, so happy he could burst. “Never.”

When they’re so close they’re sharing air, Merlin puts his palm on Arthur’s cheek. “Arthur’s my home.” He kisses him softly, sweetly.

“Kiss,” Arthur murmurs dreamily, closing his eyes. “yes, please, okay.” And suddenly, the past year fades away like the morning mists of the jungle.

“Thank you,” Merlin smiles, taking Arthur's hand, and moves in for more.

 

_finis_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you are interested in my original gay romances, you can find them [here.](http://rjames201581.wix.com/rebecca-james)


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